I've Had Enough!
by APotterPersona
Summary: AU from early GoF; Rita's article following the Wand Weighing was the last straw. Harry needs to vent some of his anger onto something - Now! He ends up finding more than he was looking for and suddenly his life takes a drastic turn. Who will be there for him? What will he find? What will he do? This is a mentor fic - not slash. Obs! I do not own the cover pic.
1. I've Had Enough!

**Disclaimer:** I am sad to say that I do _not_ own any part of the world wide wonder that is the Harry Potter unvierse. I sincerely wish that I did but I cannot help but think that the genius behind our happiness, the Queen Rowling herself, deserves every piece of credit I can give. The only things I own here are the plot and anything you do not recognize.

**Story keys:**

"Regular speech"

"_Mind speech"_

_Thoughts, Spells_

_§Parseltounge§_

Titles (Books etc.)

**A/N: **Hi there fellow FanFic-people :) This is my first ever fanfic so I'm hoping you like it. I'm currently working with a grammar-handicapped beta so please bare with any spelling/ grammatical incorrections.

Now, wthout further ado: This is **_I've Had Enough!_**

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**Chapter 1: I've Had Enough!**

_That's it! I've had enough of this!_

Harry was storming out of the Great Hall of Hogwarts castle at an impressive speed, the morning's edition of _The Daily Prophet_ crushed in his fist as he seriously contemplated murder at the thought of the evil _witch_ known around the magical community as Rita Skeeter. The reason for his out-of-character wish to commit homicide was today's headline – the article _(Yeah, right!_) written after yesterday's wand weighing ceremony.

**Boy-Who-Lived to Compete in the Tri Wiz**

Harry Potter, age 12, has once again demonstrated his need for  
attention as he recklessly and thoughtlessly admitted himself to  
this year's exiting edition of the Triwizard Tournament, taking  
the spotlight away from those true Champions that are indeed  
deserving of our respect for being deemed worthy to compete  
in this dangerous competition.

"It will be fun." Mr. Potter states to this reporter when asked  
what could possibly have motivated him into admitting himself  
to a contest that is so clearly beyond his capabilities.

Young Mr. Potter's answer only serves to clarify that Mr.  
Potter's thoughts were only of himself as he entered and never  
strayed even remotely close to the feelings of the true  
champions of this competition. Ms. Fleur Delacour, competing  
for Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, makes her opinion clear  
as she says that:

"'Arry is only a leetle boy. 'E is not mature  
eenough to understand zat zis comptition is dangerous." And this  
reporter cannot do anything but agree as Mr. Potter quickly  
bursts into tears as I ask my final question:

"Harry, how do you think your parents would feel about you  
entering such a dangerous competition?"

"Well, since I've never known my parents I cannot be sure, but  
I hope that they would understand that I have to live up to what  
my fans expect from me, I cannot simply dissapoint them – the  
mere thought hurts."

And with that selfish comment I will leave you all to consider  
where you want to place your bets when this tournament takes  
off in just seven short weeks.

_Rita Skeeter_

Harry was fuming. _Lies! Every single word!_ He had only said that he hoped to survive the experience without losing any limbs before manoeuvering his way out of the cramped cupboard where he had been placed against his express desire to the contrary (It reminded him far too much of his old cupboard at Privet Drive).

As he raged on through the corridors of the one place that had ever been a true home to him he could not help but to contemplate the severe lack of any real luck in his life. In his first year things had started out well, but he now suspected that that had more to do with the Fates gaining traction than the presence of any luck on his part.

From Halloween that first year things had never really gone back to that desirably simple way of a regular schoolboy again. There was always something there to trip him again as he was gaining his footing from another mishap.

First there was the troll. Then Norbert and the Mirror of Erised, ending that lovely year with a chat with Voldemort. Over that summer there was Dobby and being starved by the Dursley's, rapidly followed by flying cars and homicidal trees. Back that up with a nest full of acromantulas and a 65 foot poisonous snake with a killing glare and that was definitively his favourite year so far. In his third year there was the fear of Sirius Black, the supposed murderer and traitor that was the reason his parents had been killed, and the constantly present terror at the thought of getting too close to the dementors again. The few bright spots in this nearly constant rush of madness had been his best friends, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley. They had been with him through thick and thin and he had thought that he knew them, that he could trust them.

He had recently learned that that was not the case.

The moment his name had come out of the Goblet of Fire on the last of September, 1994, Harry knew that things were about to go downhill again. But he had had no way of knowing that it was going to be this bad.

When he got back to the common room that night, still in shock from what had been thrown at him this time, he was treated to the cold shoulder from almost the entire house. The only one that seemed to truly believe him when he said that he hadn't entered his name was Neville. Shy Neville that never stood up to anyone had looked him right in the eye and said, without any trace of doubt or uncertainty, "I believe you Harry." True, that had been in the dorm when Harry had managed to finally get away from a furious Ron and a "very disappointed" Hermione, but at that moment it meant the world to him that Neville had said it at all.

That was a week ago, and yesterday had been the wand weighing ceremony. The only check that would be made to insure that the Champions all had fully functional wands to get them through the perils ahead.

And now Rita's article had managed that which had only happened once before today – it had made Harry so mad that he had had to leave the Great Hall for fear of destroying something. Last time he was this mad he had accidentally blown up his "aunt" and left her drifting on the stubborn northern winds somewhere over Surrey.

He was brought out of his violent thoughts by the echoing sound of Moaning Myrtle wailing in the u-bend of her toilet. Momentarily caught off guard by the fact that he had completely lost track of his wanderings Harry suddenly stopped in the middle of the corridor and took a look around.

As his eyes raked over the wall to his left he caught sight of the bloody writing on the wall, the only visible evidence in the castle to the horrible happenings of two years ago.

As he turned and walked back in the direction of the Entrance Hall, thinking that he could probably find a partially remote spot somewhere around the Lake to demolish, he suddenly stopped with a surprised look on his face.

"The Chamber!" He hit himself over the forehead and turned back around towards Myrtle's bathroom. "How could I have been so stupid and forget the Chamber?" He asked himself as he slowly entered the room, looking around for it's wailing inhabitant.

He stood silently for a few minutes while the echos of Myrtle's wails grew dimmer and dimmer and he eventually felt that it was safe to open the sink without risking Myrtle or anyone else knowing he was going down there.

As he walked from the pipe towards the second door he came across the wall of fallen rock which had caused such a problem two years earlier. He stood still just looking at the pile, while thinking about a way to move it without causing yet another cave in, for he was no longer small enough to get through the hole left from his first expedition down here.

He compromised between following his emotions and blow a hole in it and following his head and turn back around by gently levitating small piles of stones until he had a hole that was big enough for him to comfortably crawl through but that still left most of the ginormous blockage untouched.

He stood in front of the second door just looking at it.

_How is it that I still don't feel like I belong?! I've been here for four years now! Living with the other Gryffs in the tower, eating in the Great Hall, studying in the library! Hogwarts is truly Home to me, and yet..._

He couldn't help but to frustratedly shake his head before he opened the second door, watching the engraved snakes with their emerald eyes slither across the door to unlock it.

_They have the same eyecolor as me,_ he thought, snickering at the pointless comment.

As he entered the Chamber he came across a scene which he had not expected. The 65 foot long carcass of Slytherin's basilisk was lying exactly where he left it, looking as if their fight to the death had happened just yesterday. Perhaps it was always this way with magical creatures, or maybe it had to do with the magic of Hogwarts, but there was no sign, none at all, that made it seem like the basilisk had started decomposing, it didn't even smell! The great vibrantly green snake just lay there, turned in such a way that had Harry not already known that it was indeed dead, he would have worried about waking it up.

"Well, look at you," Harry said, suddenly finding himself wanting to lay some of his frustration and anger on anyone or any_thing_ available.

"Here you are, resting peacefully in your own home. Well removed from the idiotic throng of sheep in the castle above you while I have to deal with them staring and wisperig no matter where I go! If you only knew how..."

And suddenly all the dams burst; every mean comment, every quiet snicker as he passed, the wispering and the pointing and that "zone of no contact" that always surrounded him when he walked through the corridors between classes came rushing out. Harry ranted and raged at the basilisk, which just calmly lay there, taking it all.

Now, Harry could not possibly know this, but putting his full attention on a snake had the not too surprising effect of causing him to cross over into speaking in parseltongue. And doing so in the realm of Salazar Slytherin was obviously going to have consequences.

_§...and sometimes I really just want to take that thrice damned Gryffindor Courage of theirs and sh-§ _Harry abruptly cut himself off as he heard the unmistakable sound of stone against stone grating thoughout the Chamber.

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**A/N:** Sooo, that was chapter one! :D I'm almost considering thanking my ever faithful writing buddy/ equally FanFiction obsessed BFF MysteriaMalfoy for forcing me to publish this story... Oh well, maybe some day ;)

My updating schedule will be erratic since I never know when I'll decide to cut off a piece of my writing and declare it a chapter so please just bare with me.

I'm hoping for reviews, questions, discussions and/ or anything else you feel like so bring it on! :D

'Til next time good folks!  
/ APotterPersona


	2. The Secret of the Chamber

**Disclaimer:** I am not the owner of Harry Potter, that is J. K. Rowling. I am just playing a little with her toys :)

**Story keys:**

"Regular speech"

"_Mind speech"_

_Thoughts, Spells_

_§Parseltounge§_

Titles (Books etc.)

**A/N: **Sooo, you are hereby treated to the continuation of _I've Had Enough!_ a chapter that ended up a lot longer than I had planned. My Beta is once again forcing me to publish (It's almost a wonder that I manage to write without her at all :P ) and so I am forced, in turn, to thank her for the continued evolution of my story. So thank you - _Wipe that shit-eating grin off your face, woman!_ - MysteriaMalfoy for dissecting my story for me :*_  
_

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**Chapter 2: The Secret of the Chamber**

Last time:

_§...and sometimes I really just want to take that thrice damned Gryffindor Courage of theirs and sh-§ _Harry abruptly cut himself off as he heard the unmistakable sound of stone against stone grating throughout the Chamber.

* * *

His wand was out and he was on full alert before he even realized that he needed to be, already the years of having to watch his back both at Hogwarts and at the Dursleys were starting to affect his sense of paranoia.

What he saw caused his mouth to drop open in shock. All around the Chamber the pillars and sculptures of vicious and aggressive snakes were re-forming into something that gave off a likeness to an old Greek temple. The groved pillars supporting the domed ceiling were of a whitish stone and decorated with snakes, the sculptures had turned from vicious monsters of childrens' nightmares into detailed works of art depicting life sized snakes from all around the world, colors and all. There was every kind; from the small and vibrantly black, red and yellow coral snake on a pedestal to the gigantic anaconda curled up on the floor next to the pathway. There were fire-colored bush-vipers in trees and runespoors on rocks, next to a sand-colored rattlesnake was an Indian cobra with its hood proudly displayed.

As Harry stood there, too shocked to move, the rest of the Chamber finished reforming in front of his eyes. The walkway went from a dark, depressing gray to a bright and inviting silvery gray marble laced with white veins. The shallow pool closest to Slytherin's statue suddenly grew a low wall-like edge, making it look like a fountain pool... without the fountain.

And then there was the statue itself. Where there had previously been a statue of a man that looked as ancient as Hogwarts herself, with a monkey-like face and and a beard that even Dumbledore would be proud of, now stood a depiction of a man clearly in his prime, arms crossed over his chest, hair tied back and with a well-trimmed beard. Eyes that even in their stony state seemed to give off a sense of determination, consideration and underlying amusement rested in a face that Harry could not have described in any way other than as good-looking. Harry couldn't help but notice that this man would have demanded attention and respect while he was alive. The way he held himself and the hints left by the cut of the elegant-looking robes made Harry acutely aware of his own bad posture and deteriorating physique. He unconciously straightened up and met the stony gaze as he came to the startling realization that he had just been _admiring_ _Salazar Slytherin._ For there was no doubt at all as to who the man was.

Shaking his head to get his focus back, Harry turned and took another look around. The grating sound had now stopped and it was almost eerily silent in the Chamber, the only sound was the merry crackling provided by white flames in silver dishes floating among the statues and pillars, bathing the Chamber in a dancing glimmer of white light.

As he stood there and took in the magnificent sight in front of him, Harry spoke out loud in the Chamber, jumping a little as the echoes of his own voice carried through the air.

_§You know, while everyone always goes on and on about how sneaky and cunning you were, Slytherin, I seriously doubt anyone thought you were _this_ sneaky and secretive.§_

Once again there was a grating sound and Harry looked to the statue to see a slim walkway emerging from the waters in the pool leading to the statue's right leg, where a door shaped silhouette could now be seen.

_This must be the same tunnel that opened for Riddle two years ago. _Harry thought as he slowly crossed to the door and carefully opened it, well aware of the fact that the last time it had opened it had released a gigantic monster that tried to eat him whole.

_The only difference is that this time it's low enough to the ground for a person to enter. Wonder what could be so important that Slytherin had to make a hidden tunnel within the hidden Chamber?_

Harry entered the comfortably sized tunnel and a row of silver dish torches like the ones out in the Chamber burst to life close to the cieling, revealing walls of the same light gray marble as the one Slytherin's statue was made of, and a floor covered in years' worth of dust.

As he moved further in, only preceded by regular _scourgifys_ to get rid of the dust, Harry relaxed more and more, there was something about this place, the calm crackling of the torches, the soft sound of his shoes against the floor, and the completely non-treathening atmosphere of a place where he knew that no one could get to him that made him relax completely for the first time in a really long time.

And so it was that Harry arrived at the first forking of the tunnel with a soft smile on his lips. The tunnel split in two, the right hand branch was declining slightly and turning to the right while the left kept on going for a few yards and then ended by a spiral staircase leading up.

Doing a mental coin flip Harry decided that he would start by going right. This tunnel was rounder than the left, and with wider spacing between the torches, making it quite a bit dimmer. After slowly turning right for about 10 yards the tunnel made a sudden turn to the left and opened up to a huge cavern-like room. And one would have to call this a room and not a cave as could have been expected. The room was roughly spherical, and the walls and cieling were smoothed down and polished to a dark grey shimmer. In the middle of the room there was a big bowl like shape lowered into the floor, and next to it stood a large comfy-looking wing-back armchair that looked to be out of style by at least a couple of centuries.

_Huh, who knew, a bedroom for a basilisk, wow. _Because that was the only explanation Harry could come up with, the big bowl was for the basilisk to sleep in and the chair was for Slytherin whenever they felt like having a chat. Sniggering at the mental picture Harry took another look around. Up by the cieling and slightly to the left he saw something that looked like a balcony overlooking the big snake-bed, it was hard to tell exactly what it looked like because it was dark up there and the few torches by the ground weren't really bright enough to light it up. Looking around Harry couldn't find any way to get up there so he decided to go back to the other tunnel and see if that was where the stairs led.

As he ascended the stairs to curiously diminishing amounts of dust Harry thought that this had to be his most exciting and comfortable adventure within Hogwarts' walls yet. There was no one trying to erase his memories, no one trying to suck his soul out, no gigantic monster trying to molest him och otherwise harm him and there was only him and his thoughts. _It is rather comfortable, _he thought, _not having to mediate between Ron and Hermione and their constant bickering. There is no one staring at me, no one pointing, and no one even knows that I am down here._ And he found that he had missed this, being alone with his thoughts. It was almost all he knew before he was thrown back into the wizaring world on his eleventh birthday; the Dursleys always wanted him to be quiet while doing his chores and when they didn't see him they didn't want to hear him either so that meant keeping quiet in his cupboard or his room too. At pre-school he didn't have any friends to talk to and if he didn't keep his head down and his mouth shut then Dudley would come with his gang and beat him up, so he learned quickly to be quiet there, as well. But ever since that day in the hut on the rock in the sea everywhere he went there had been people either staring at him and telling him he was dangerous or a crowd of people just trying to get a look at him. Even at the Burrow there was no rest to be had what with the entire Weasley clan in the house. And well, sharing a dorm with four other teenage boys wasn't really expected to provide much peace and quiet, now was it?

So, savouring the calm in the stone tunnels miles below the hectic school Harry stepped onto the landing above the stairs and into a room that was quickly lit up by a fire in the fireplace and candles and oil lamps around the room.

Harry just stood there for a few moments, looking around. For what he had happened upon by mere chance was something that historians around the world would have happily paid their wand for. _These are Slytherin's personal chambers!_ Harry slowly stepped over the treshold into the large study, eyes wide open with awe at the stylishly decorated room.

The dark mahogany floor streched from the balcony doors on the right hand wall to the enormous fireplace on the left wall. The balcony doors were made of glass and Harry could see now that two torches had come to life out on the balcony and were providing light for any person who would come to sit down in the large armchair out there. By the wall directly to the right of the door there stood a finely crafted mahogany cocktail cabinet with silver handles and hinges. The top doors were open and on the glass shelving inside Harry could see a number of differently shaped crystal liqour bottles filled with liquids ranging from the deep red of burgundy to the light brown of amber and any color in between, there was also something that Harry assumed was an ice bucket and a number of funnily shaped glasses of different sizes. In front of the balcony doors there stood a small, square table set up with a heavy-looking chess set halfway through what looked like a very even game. In the far right corner, facing the room, was the biggest mahogany desk Harry had ever seen (he even wondered for a moment wheather it would have fit through professor Dumbledore's office door), the desk was inlaid with silver snakes on the front and sides and behind it stood a stately leather office chair in a dark brown. On top of the desk there were a number of runny off-white wax candles, a silver inkwell, some really, really nice quills made from eagle, pheasant and hawk feathers and a number of books spread out amongst scrolls and pieces of parchment. Straight ahead from where Harry stood in the doorway there where two more doors separated by a heavy bookcase filled with leatherbound journals and books so old and dusty he was slightly amazed that they were still in one piece.

Harry slowly crossed to the bookcase and looked the titles over. Practical Potions, Indigestive Ingredients, Enchanting Enchantments and Goblin Etiquette were mixed in with books that seemed so old that Harry could barely understand what he was reading.

Peeking into the right of the two doors revealed an old library that smelled of parchment and mothballs while the left held a dark stone corridor and another sprial staircase going up.

In the corner beside the door there was a dark wooden cabinet that looked a bit like the one that held Snape's finished potions down in the dungeons (O_r should that be _up _in the dungeons?_). It was a bit similar to the cocktail cabinet on the other end of the room as it had the same divided doors, the upper pair of these cabinet doors however were made of glass, giving an unobstructed view of rows of neatly labeled potions phials that gave way to lumps of metal, strange devices and a few ornate little boxes and chests.

Taking up most of the remaining space on the wall was the enormous, rectangular fireplace made from large slabs of a whitish-beige sandstone. _Then again, it probably gets pretty chilly down here in winter,_ Harry mused as he took in the wrought iron grate and candle holders in front of the fire and on the mantle. Next to the candles was an ornamental snake made from copper. They were sharing the space with a framed photograph of four people in front of what had to be a newly constructed Hogwarts, a wand on a stand and a small velvet jewelery box. Above the mantle hung a simple heraldic shield of a dark green bordered with silver, picturing a large serpent. The floor in front of the fireplace was covered in dark grey slates and there stood a set of fire tools and a large black couldron full of firewood beside it. Harry figured that they were either there merely for decoration – for there was no way one would actually have to tend to the fire when there was magic around – or Slytherin liked poking around in the fire when he was alone with his thoughts down here.

Grouped together in front of the fire was a comfortable looking three-seat sofa and two armchairs in the same green as the shield. They were grouped around a small round glass-top coffee table.

Harry sat down on the sofa and looked around. The stone walls were relatively bare, there was only one painting of the Hogwarts' landscape behind the desk, a couple of oil lamps hanging on hooks by the doorways and a tapestry of a forest landscape by the door leading out to the dark corridor, but that was it. The floor was covered in a number of large soft rugs in different shades of green and gray and Harry found that he rather liked the more muted decorations of Slytherin's rooms in comparison to the bright reds and gold of the Gryffindor common room and dormitories. After three years he had taken to spending more time away from the common room when doing his homework and during free periods merely to avoid a headache brought on from the combination of bright reds and gold and a terribly incorrect ocular prescription.

_§Well, while this is cozy and everything, I don't think we've been introduced?§_

Harry flew out of the sofa and spun, wand first, towards the corner where the voice had come from. There, to the left of the fireplace, stood a portrait. It was life sized and the only thing that comfirmed that it was indeed a portrait was the heavy framework around it. In the painting, sitting on a leather armchair in what looked like a mirror image of the room where Harry was standing, stroking the head of what looked like a much, _much_ younger basilisk, was Salazar Slytherin.

TBC...

* * *

**A/N: **Hehe, I almost feel evil :P

As always I am most interested in what you have to say, mistakes, ideas, questions - bring it! :)

'Til next time, people! :D

Updated: 18 March 2014


	3. Marvin

**Disclaimer:**I do not own anything to do with Harry Potter. In this story I only own the plot, otherwise I am just playing in J. K. Rowling's sandbox.

**Story** **keys:**

"Regular speech"

"_Mind speech"_

_Thoughts, Spells_

_§Parseltongue§_

_Titles (Books etc.)_

**A/N: **Hellooo folks! I'm sorry for the longer than last wait but I hit a snag in Slytherin's rooms. And **please, take the time to read this** A/N, it clears out some confusions regarding old vs modern stuff.

Now, before we get started I thought I'd address some points you made to me about my interior design; I _know_ that Hogwarts was founded a long time ago and that things such as fancy glasses and nice woodwork and things like that did not exist - for the Muggles. My reasoning is that the foundation of what today is the purebloods' conviction in their own superiority comes from their being able to do just about anything at that time when muggles were indeed not so advanced. In my mind there is no doubt that you could already at that time shape a piece of glass, of conjure one, into a magnificent crystal glass, or make a great piece of wooden relief. Everything there is made from sturdy, natural materials (i.e. no plastic) and could in my mind be created by someone skilled in transfiguration and conjuration.

It has also been pointed out to me that even wizarding photos did not exist at that time, which is absolutely correct. What Harry saw on the mantel wasn't actually a photograph, it is merely described as such because that is what it looked like to Harry. I have been asked about it so I thought I'd explain it to all of you, that is after all only fair. The "photograph" on Slytherin's mantle is really a wooden frame carved with runes similar to those in a pensieve. A specific memory is then imprinted into the frame and replayed in between the runes. Now before you start in on me regarding pensieves, I couldn't find very much information on them, other than that they are old, made from stone and carved with runes. I've drawn my own conclusions from there and if you don't like it - tough luck!

Now! On to things more easily spoken of, I will (reluctantly) say thank you to my crazy but faithful "beta" MysteriaMalfoy for outlasting my agonized rants on conversation swamps. Love you, deary! :*

Since that is now finally taken care of (phew) - Chapter 3 everyone :) It's short and sort of a part 1 but it's what I have right now.

* * *

**Chapter 3: Marvin**

Last time:

In the painting, sitting on a leather armchair in what looked like a mirror image of the room where Harry was standing, stroking the head of what looked like a much, _much_ younger basilisk, was Salazar Slytherin.

* * *

Harry could only stare. Slytherin looked exactly like the statue out in the Chamber; early-thirties, tall, slim frame, small goatee and mustache and low ponytail, intelligent and amused eyes and aristocratic posture. What took Harry by surprise, though, was the man's coloring. Harry had always pictured Salazar Slytherin with dark hair and black eyes, molding him as a predecessor of Snape the Creepy Dungeon Bat in a way. And while this man indeed had dark hair, it was not black – it was a deep red, a few shades redder than mahogany. And his eyes were a sparkling green that made Harry think of the snakes guarding the second door to the Chamber. Coupled with his somewhat tan skin, black slacks and waistcoat, white shirt and bottle green robes and cravat he cut a most striking figure.

_§What... How... But... I?..§ _Was the most intelligent comment Harry could make in his shocked state of mind. He slowly fell back down onto the sofa and was stuck there staring at Sytherin while the Founder chuckled at him.

_§While I am most pleased with your... impressed, reaction to my prescence I cannot help but observe that you seem to be surprised to find me here. Why is that?§ _Slytherin asked, not seeming at all surprised but more pleased that someone had just walked into his personal chambers for the first time in almost a millennia.

As Harry hastily gathered his wits about him by pushing his shock to the back of his mind, he cleared his throat and said,

_§Well, that might be because I _had_ no idea that I would find you here, Sir. You see, no one has managed to get into your Chamber for the past 50 years, and before that the last person to enter was, well, you. I entered two years ago but I haven't been back there until today. And the only reason I came down here today was to blow something up... but I've changed my mind on that...§_ He trailed off at the end as he saw Slytherin's expression close off and take on a stonelike quality that told Harry that he should probably not say anything else just now.

_§Explain.§_

_§Well, since you need parseltongue to open the Chamber...§_ And so Harry talked. Starting with the biased opinion of parseltongue and parselmouths and continuing on to the public view of Slytherin as an evil wizard who had supposedly abandoned the school, the prejudices between the Houses, the attacks two years earlier and Voldemort's rise to power along with his confident claim to the title of Slytherin's Heir – at this Slytherin's eyebrows rose but he let Harry continue without interruption – and Voldemort looking for and finding the Chamber as a confimation to his inheritance and lastly, of the legend that was _The_ _Chamber of Secrets_.

When he finally finished Harry's throat was sore and Sytherin was staring off into space while muttering profanities in parseltongue that would make even Uncle Vernon impressed.

After a few minutes of uniterrupted stewing Slytherin grew silent and switched pastime from swearing to staring, at Harry. And while Harry was used to people staring at him and had gotten very good (if he said so himself) at ignoring people staring at him, there was something about the openly calculating glint in the ancient founder's gaze that made him nervous. But if there was one thing he had learned from all the times Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had screamed at him for being a waste of space, or Hermione was yelling at him and Ron for neglecting their education, or Snape was ranting about his father; it was patience. It was not always easy, Merlin knows most of the time it was dead hard! but he had learned. So now he sat there, waiting for Slytherin to finish inspecting him.

_§Why did you only come down here to destroy something? While I will readily agree that it is a good place to rant and rave at unsuspecting idiots that was not its main purpose.§_ Slytherin finally broke the silence with a suspiciously calm tone of voice. Harry let out a small sigh of relief, they had been staring at each other for almost fifteen minutes.

Harry decided that honesty was the way to go here. Lying always came back to bite him in the arse in the end and he thought it would be the pinnacle of rudeness to lie to the Founder in his own personal chambers – and say what you will about the Dursleys, but they did raise him to be polite.

_§Well, let's just say that the level of idiocy in this place seems to grow with every year and it has just reached previously unvisited levels. I had to get away from the others before I blew someone up and since I am the only one inside the walls that can come down here I thought it was a good idea. Mind you, that was while the only part of the Chamber I had seen was the glamour/ illusion part. To be honest – had I not found this I probably would have blown the place to pieces.§_

_§Idiocy, huh?§ _Slytherin arched an eyebrow and smirked. _§Why, if I didn't know better I'd say that you had an unfortunate run in with the lions of the school. They usually are the perpetrators of idiocy around here. At least the kind of idiocy you seem to have fallen prey to.§_

Harry just stared at Slytherin. He didn't seem angry or annoyed at all! He seemed, amused. As if it was a common and somewhat appreciated break in routine that Gryffindors did stupid things. _Weren't Slytherin and Gryffindor the biggest of enemies? What the hell is going on?_

_§Well...§_ Harry figured that he should just go with it at this point. He'd go back up to the dorm later and hopefully forget all about this wierd encounter by tomorrow. _§Both yes and no.§ _He said as he wondered at the wisdom of letting the Founder know that it was actually his House that was the worst, closely followed by the Hufflepuffs and only then the Gryffindors.

_§It's actually... the Slytherins that are the worst. The Gryffindors are third in line, Hufflepuff is second.§_

He quickly stopped speaking as Slytherin looked as if someone had just hit him over the head with something hard.

Slyherin narrowed his eyes. _§What happened to the Slytherin House rules of looking after our own?§ _His voice was dangerous and Harry almost sincerely felt sorry for Snape if this rule was supposed to extend to the rest of the school for any Slytherin that had already graduated and returned to teach. If Slytherin got a hold of Snape in this mood it looked as if they might as well start planning his funeral then and there.

_§Oh, I'm sure nothing has happened to them§ _Harry tried to assure the upset founder._ §They're probably still fully functional,§ especially if Snape's actions towards any Slytherin at any given time is anything to go by. _Harry finished the sentence quietly to himself.

_§It cannot be if they have targeted you and made you so upset you had to get away even from them in order to have some semblance of quiet! The House common room and the dorms are meant for this precise purpose!§_

_He thinks _I'm_ a Slytherin?!_ Harry just sat there with his mouth open..._ When did I ever make it sound like _I _was in Slytherin?_

_§Wait!§_ Harry cuts off Slytherin's rant over dunderheads with no respect for their Housemates. Somewhere in the back of his head Harry registers with some amusement that the Founder used Snape's favourite derogatory term for all things non-slytherin in origin.

_§I'm sure it still stands, it's just that I'm not in Slytherin so it wouldn't apply to me!§_

_§What do you mean you're not in my House?§_ And he looks genuinely confused, as if it was a perfectly understandable confusion at a time like this.

_§I mean that I am not in your House, I'm a Gryffindor.§_

Big silence.

And then Slytherin starts to laugh. A loud, real, belly-ache laugh that makes Harry's own lips twitch a little as he watches the millennium old Founder laugh at the idea of Harry being in Gryffindor.

_§It's true, Sir.§_ Harry said and pointed to the clearly scarlet crest on his school robes.

Slytherin just stared at the crest like he couldn't believe it.

_§By the stars, you actually meant it.§_ Slytherin eventually got his tongue back and sat up straight in his chair before pinning Harry with a confused look. _§What in the seven circles of Hades went wrong with your sorting?! Did Marvin lose his mind, did you bribe him? He always was a stickler for the rules unless you bribed him with something old. Something about spending all his working time in the heads of eleven year olds gave him a taste for the ancient, I think he said.§_

This was not the direction Harry thought this conversation would go.

_§Who is Marvin?§_

_§They got rid of Marvin?! That can't be right, I know I felt him just a few weeks ago.§ _Slytherin wrinkled his brows together. _§What happened to him?§_

Harry was now thoroughly confused. Not only had someone by the name of Marvin apparently lost his mind and messed up Harry's sorting, but said Marvin was also supposed to be a personal aquaintance of Slytherin's which would make him as old as Hogwarts herself and... Something was really wrong here.

_§Who is Marvin? And how could he have messed up my sorting? I thought no one could influence the Hat? Well, other then the person getting sorted that is.§_ He finished as he thought of his own conversation with the Hat just over three years ago. But he also remebered the Hat being most displeased with putting him in a House where it did not think that he would reach his full potential, so how someone could have possibly managed to convince it to put him in Gryffindor while he was tellling the Hat to do so himself, and the Hat was still annoyed... He quickly shook his head. It didn't add up. He was missing at least a dozen pieces if he wanted to solve this puzzle.

Slytherin gve him an annoyed look and Harry couldn't help but think that the Founder seemed a lot more willing to let Harry see a bit of his actual personality now than when he had first come into the room talking about blowing up the Founder's precious Chamber. _Huh, when I put it that way then maybe that isn't so surprising._

_§I thought you said you didn't know anyone named Marvin. Why are you lying to me?§_

_§What? But I _don't _know anyone named Marvin!§_ How had they gotten into this argument again?

_§But you just said you got sorted by a hat!§_

_§Yes! But what does a Marvin have to do with any of it?!§_ Harry was almost yelling out of frustration now, and the basilisk had curled up around the bottom of Slytherin's chair and was chuckling to itself in that strange way that snakes laugh.

_§The Hat's name is Marvin!§_ Slytherin finally threw out with an air of incredulity. _§You mean to tell me that he is still sorting students, just like we tasked him, after 1000 years, but no one even knows his name? Now that is just ungrateful!§_ Slytherin sank back down into his seat that he had vacated in the heated non-argument conversation with a huff.

_Well, that explains a little... _Harry arched an eyebrow _§You named a hat Marvin?§_

Slytherin sighed and rubbed a hand over his eyes, _§No, Ricky named a hat Marvin. I tried to convince him otherwise but for some reason he said that the Hat was a Marvin and there was nothing he could do about it. Something I have never understood. Owen was after all the one with all the answers, not me.§_

___Ricky__? __Owen__?_

TBC...

* * *

**A/N:**So, like I said at the top this is sort of a Part 1, the rest of this highly strange conversation will be up... relatively soon, I'm kinda stuck in this unreasonably deep conversational swamp right now and swimming is turning out to be nearly impossible.

Anyway, I'm hoping for reviews and comments and questions from all of you (even if it's just to criticize my grammar) so fire away, y'all! :D

'Til next time

Yours faithfully

/ APotterPersona

Uploaded: 7 April 2014


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